Bad Things
by anneryn7
Summary: AU,AH Steter (2nd in Good Enough to Eat) My one night stand with Peter was almost a month ago and I've been avoiding him like the plague, ever since. I just figured that when Peter woke up, he would realize that he had made a mistake and I couldn't bear to stick around for that. I tried to concentrate on picking up groceries, instead of Peter, but when has life ever been that easy?


**A/N: This is the sequel to **_**Paralyzer**_**. It's finally up! (I finally got inspired to write it for Steter week! :D) Also, I have no idea how old Peter Hale really is, so for this story's sake, he's 25 and Derek is 21. Reviews would be wonderful. **

**Love,  
>Anneryn<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>I DO NOT OWN <strong>_**TEEN WOLF**_** OR THE CHARACTERS.**

* * *

><p>I picked up a box of Lucky Charms, but I wasn't really looking at it. Instead, I was thinking about the one night stand I had with Derek's unnaturally hot uncle, Peter. It was <em><strong>hot<strong>_ and that's the understatement of the century. I wasn't a virgin, but I had never been with a guy, before. I freaked out in the morning and bolted. I just figured that when Peter woke up, he would realize that he had made a mistake and I couldn't bear to stick around for that. It was one of the best nights of my life and definitely the hottest.

That was almost a month ago and I've been avoiding him like the plague, ever since. Derek and Isaac have tried to talk to me about it a few times, but I always change the subject or find somewhere else to be.

"Stiles, I'm going to grab shampoo and the toothbrushes." My dad announced. I looked over at him and nodded. He went on his merry way and I tossed the cereal I was holding into the cart. I grabbed a couple of heart healthy options for my dad and pushed the cart aimlessly around the grocery store.

"Well, well, what have we here?" A voice floated into my ears from behind me. It went straight to my groin and I started to panic. I whipped around and saw Peter smirking at me. "I was wondering if you were still alive, after all, we both know that you're far too pretty to die." He purred, creeping closer to me. I tried my best not to flail with nervousness.

"P-Peter," I stuttered. My nervousness just seemed to amuse him, even more.

"In the flesh," he smirked. He kept eyeing me like I was something just waiting to be devoured. "Isn't this a pleasant surprise to run into you at the market, of all places? Perhaps you regret our night together? Derek and Isaac have told me that you've been avoiding them. I admit it puts a damper on my self-esteem. You continue to wound my precious ego, Stiles. Don't worry. I can think of many ways that you can repay me. You'd like that – wouldn't you?" Peter breathed. He pressed himself against me, so I was pressed against one of the food shelves. He slid a leg in between mine and started to nuzzle my neck. I groaned and struggled to think straight. God. How does always affect me like this? "Did you miss me, Stiles?" Peter whispered, as he bit gently on my ear. I nodded.

"Yes," I gasped.

"Why didn't you stay?" He asked, just as quietly, but with more seriousness, than before.

"I was scared." It was my turn to whisper.

"Scared of what, dear Stiles?" Peter asked, sounding more curious than anything else. His concern threw me. I wasn't expecting that.

"That you'd regret what we… That you wouldn't want me when you… I didn't think that I could take… I left to make it easier." I tried and failed to explain.

"Easier on whom?"

"Me," I answered. He stroked the side of my face and pressed his lips to mine. My eyes fluttered closed and I kissed him back, fisting his shirt. He pulled away, before I was ready.

"You're a lot of things, Stiles, but I would never regret you. I think you underestimate just how much I want you – _**still **_want you." He lifted my chin as he talked to me, to make sure that I saw the sincerity in his eyes and heard every word. He thrust his hips against mine, so I could feel his growing hard-on to further prove his point. I nodded, breathlessly. I jumped when someone's throat cleared behind Peter. My jaw dropped when I saw my dad looking at me, uncomfortably and intrigued, at the same time.

"Are you two seeing each other?" Dad asked, not bothering to beat around the bush. Peter nodded for the both of us. He moved away from me and turned to face my father. I tugged down my shirt to try and hide my own arousal. "How old are you?" Dad pressed. Peter sent him a charming, seemingly innocent smile that caught me off guard.

"We are indeed seeing each other, Sheriff. To answer your question, I'm twenty-five and my name is Peter Hale. I believe you knew my sister, Talia Hale, and you know my nephew, Derek." He introduced himself. My breath caught and I swear to fucking _**God**_, I forgot how to breathe. I looked at Dad and back to Peter and back to Dad and back to Peter. I kept glancing back and forth at the pair of them.

"I remember Talia," my dad admitted, quietly. "I see Derek because he and Stiles have mutual friends, or are friends. Are you friends, kid?" Dad asked me. I just shrugged. "Do you have a habit of going after teenage boys?" Dad continued to grill Peter. I inched away a couple of steps. If there is going to bloodshed, I'd rather not get caught in the middle of it. Someone kill me now. I want to die. I want to crawl into a hole. And die. Really. I'm ready. I scanned the aisle ways and saw no escape plan in sight.

"I won't deny that I prefer to date younger men, but I would never pursue a relationship with anyone who was underage. I normally date closer to my nephew's age. Stiles in an exception." Peter replied, smoothly. Dad looked relieved, but I doubt that he's going to let this go, anytime soon.

"I'm not naïve, Mr. Hale. I'm all too aware that my son is eighteen. That doesn't mean that I will allow anyone to take advantage of him or force him into something. I am the sheriff and I have a gun that I'm not afraid to use to protect my son." Dad threatened Peter, staring him down. I blanched. Wh-what?

"Dad, no, it's not like that. I swear!" I blurted out. He eyed me warily.

"Please, call me Peter. I assure you that I would never force Stiles into anything." Peter promised him. Dad's not stupid. I doubt that he trusts him or takes his word for anything, but he does trust me. I know that much.

"Stiles, promise me that you're seeing him willingly and he hasn't forced you into anything." Dad demanded. I nodded, quickly.

"I promise, Dad. You know me better than that." I swore. He nodded

"Okay. I expect you to come for dinner next week. I want to get to know you better, if you intend on dating my son. And know this, if you break his heart, I _**will **_shoot you." Dad vowed. Peter smiled, again.

"I wouldn't respect you, if you wouldn't." He agreed. A smile ghosted onto Dad's face, but it was gone, as soon as it appeared.

"I'll leave you two to talk." Dad told me. I nodded, thankful to get this awkward exchange over with.

"Actually, I just wanted to ask Stiles if he was free tomorrow. I'm throwing Derek a birthday party and I need someone to help serve drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Are you interested?" He asked me.

"I… Yeah. That'd be great, actually." I replied, grinning at him, sheepishly. He flashed me a smirk and nodded.

"Perfect, I'll see you at my place, tomorrow. Be there at seven."

* * *

><p>I straightened my work clothes for the umpteenth time, before knocking on Peter's front door. I didn't have to wait long, for it to swing open. My jaw dropped when I saw Peter standing in front of me clad in a pair of black low riding jeans and nothing else.<p>

"Wh-where is everyone?" I asked him. He smirked.

"Silly me, I seem to have forgotten that Derek and his little friends when to Los Angeles for his birthday. I should invite you in. After all, you did come all this way and in that uncomfortable looking attire. I could help you take it off and get into something more comfortable." Peter breathed as he grabbed me by my waist and pulled me inside. I gulped and let my eyes roam over his perfectly sculpted body.

"You could just ask me out, like a normal person." I reminded him. He chuckled.

"Now, Stiles, what fun would that be?"

"Why am I really here?" I asked him, eager to hear his answer.

"You're here, because I want to corrupt you. I want to do bad things to you, Stiles, _**very**_ bad things."

* * *

><p>"I don't know why you're still so shy about that gorgeous body of yours." Peter tutted, as I wrapped a sheet around my middle, before walking to the bathroom.<p>

"Not all of us are replicas of Adonis." I teased. He chuckled.

"Flattery will get you everywhere." He mused. "You should know," he said, following me into the bathroom. I turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat up. "That your body is nothing to be ashamed of. It's perfect. It's a miracle that someone didn't snatch you up, before I had the pleasure of meeting you."

"Whatever you say, Peter." I brushed off his compliments. I dropped the sheet and stepped into the stream of hot water. Peter came into the shower with me and wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my back.

"Give me enough time and I'll make sure that you believe it." He promised. I turned around to face him and he pinned me to the way.

"How?" I whimpered. He was rubbing my crotch with his hand and it's impossible to think about anything else. He started whispering everything that we just got finished doing. I closed my eyes and relived every delicious detail.

I didn't even make it five steps, after he shut the door, until I was naked and his mouth was on me in the dirtiest possible way. I lasted a shameful two minutes, before finishing down his throat. He kissed me and ravished me in only a way that he can. I don't remember when we made it up to his bedroom or how many times we went at it, until we were both sated and panting next to each other. He makes me feel things I've never felt before. He's helping me learn my body and sexuality, if that even makes sense. And I love it. It's intoxicating – _**he's**_ intoxicating.

"Stiles, I'm going to keep doing bad things to you." He rasped. I groaned and I felt his hands kneading my ass. "Would you like that?"

"God, Peter, if you don't deliver…" I whimpered, growing hotter by the second.

"Oh, Stiles, I fully intend to _**deliver**_ and I never go back on my word."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This is definitely not the last installment in this series. Don't worry! Review?**


End file.
